Up In Smoke
by Cookie. Monster 67
Summary: This is a bunch of one-shots about the different characters concerning what smoke means to them. Rating because I just thought I should make it so. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the _Kane Chronicles. _It belongs to the author. **

**All I own is my imagination, the computer which I write on, and my bedroom. **

**Actually, the bedroom and computer aren't mine. They belong to the landlord and my parents, respectively. **

**One thing that I would recommend while reading this is to listen to the song _What Doesn't Kill You (Stronger) _by Kelly Clarkson. **

**Take the time to get your iPod or find it on the Internet. It'll be worth it. It's an amazing song.**

Sadie was always jealous of her brother for getting to travel the world, while she stayed home and learned Math, English, and whatnot. Not to mention that she had to deal with bullies and other lowlifes on a daily basis. Sure, she did have a few mates at school, who were a real help. Otherwise, Sadie felt that she could only hide her true feelings behind a pair of combat boots and a proud face.

The girls at school were always rather mean to Sadie, even when she was in kindergarten and they always stole her crayons. The worst thing was that they always had someone with them, a pack of wolves closing in on a lone, wounded deer. Jessica was always the ringleader, though, and the others just kind of joined in. Most days she could pull of a smile and a snide remark, but Sadie couldn't stop the cuts from etching themselves in her self-confidence.

One day, Sadie stood in the lunchroom of her school, waiting for her food, usually something buttered. Jessica stood off to the side, talking to her cronies, plotting how they were going to break Sadie this time. To them, she was just a doll, a stepping stone on the ladder to the top of the teenage pyramid.

"Hello, Streaky, how do you do?" asked one girl with false politeness. Obviously, she was making fun of her highlights again. What was wrong with them, anyway?

Sadie tried to ignore her. Usually, there would be someone there to help her; be it Liz or Emma, a teacher. This time, though, she was all alone. Jessica could just hurt her feeling anyway she wanted.

"Oh, that isn't very nice, you know hon? Now, look at Mummy's face and tell her what's bothering you." The other accomplices laughed and jeered.

"Where are your imaginary friends? Where is Mister Puffy-Fluffy, or Miss Dolly? Have they all gone to play and left you behind?"

"You must be lonely without them."

"Ha! Good one, Alice! See how our little Sadie reacts to that one."

Sadie prayed, like her grandparents always told her to. Hoping that all of a sudden, the roof of the school would crash down on Jessica's stupid face and then she could see who was the one laughing. Or that someone, anyone would come and help.

"You're no rose either, Jessica. In fact, I would say that your mother was born in a bin."

"Don't you talk like that about my mum. At the very least SHE didn't go to the Needle in the dead of night and get herself blown to smithereens."

She knew that that wasn't true. Her Gran and Gramps had always said she was a brave woman, giving up her life for the greater good. Sadie wished she could be like that. Instead, she was poor, stupid Sadie, the prey of bullies everywhere. It was surprising that no one noticed what was going on.

"At least my mum didn't have to live with the shame of being the mother of such scum."

More insults flew at her face, from different people. Knifes sliced through the air, cuts grazed her skin, stinging slightly and then healing. Of course, and soon as one wound healed, another was opened. Finally, a girl looked at the clock and yawned.

"Nobody cares about Sadie, anyway. She isn't even worth wasting our breath for."

One final knife in the gut and that was it. She was going to give those bullies a taste of their own medicine.

!#%$%^^&*()(*&&^%$#

Sadie came home and sat on her bed. She reached for her iPod. Moments like this just weren't complete without some music. This time, Sadie found her player turned to a different song. The song lyrics reached out to her, a sense of strength came to her. That must have been what those that Egyptian myths her dad always told her meant. If a person or deity was defeated, they could always rise again. In that way, someone could live forever. Before, she'd just thought they were dumb old symbols scribbled on ancient paper.

Usually, she prided herself for not listening to what she called "American Music." This song was different. Even if Jessica and Alice and their mates could cut Sadie to a billion pieces, they could never defeat her. She would always come back, stronger than yesterday.

_You know the bed feels warmer sleeping here alone_

_You know I dream in color and do the things I want_

_You think you got the best of me_

_You think you've had the last laugh,_

_You think you left me broken down_

_You think I'd come running back_

_You think you know me but you're dead wrong_

_What doesn't kill you makes you stronger… _

The words sunk in and Sadie realized that she controlled her own fate. The bullies deserved what she had had to go through. They shouldn't have been able treat her or anyone else like that.

That weekend, Sadie went over to Liz's house to visit her friends and have some tea.

When she explained her predicament, Liz and Emma were shocked.

"Nobody touches our Sadie, except us, of course!"

"Oh no, we're going to give them a whiff of their own medicine. See how they feel in Sadie's boots."

Emma smiled and winked. Liz grinned. Sadie couldn't help but curve her lips up a tiny bit, even if she did feel bad. She wasn't alone after all. Sadie Kane did have allies, after all.

"It's fine, it's my problem and I'll find my own way out of it."

~!#$%^^&*^%%&*%%&&*

Her encounter with the bullies occurred earlier that she had thought. While she was walking along the river that evening; one of her favorite things to do; she saw something. Someone brushed by. Not in an accidental manner, though. The person pushed her into a wall. Called her a freak. There were others, too. Sadie heard voices talking.

"Throw her into the river…." Jessica looked sideways at her friend Alice. Some of the bullies were snickering. Others looked with barely disguised contempt.

"…Hope Sadie can swim. I bet her mummy won't want to see her again…."

Sadie felt her ears turn red. Anger flushed her cheeks. Each day, she missed her mum more.

"Sad… It's a waste of a perfectly good dolly for us…"

Well, Sadie could swim. But the waters of the Thames were not the cleanest in the world. And they weren't the most forgiving, either. There were stories that parents told of children who fell into the river and never came out. Still, the water couldn't be too good for her neon highlights. Sadie had spent hours getting just the right shade of green for her hair.

Just as an arm grabbed her, she felt a rush. She felt powerful, as if she were being aided by a divine power. Sadie had never believed in God or in any religious figure. But it felt otherworldly. She should have been scared, but she wasn't.

In her mind, a woman appeared; although it wasn't anybody Sadie knew.

She was dressed in a white dress her eyes lined in black eyeliner; numerous braids hanging down from her head, like the kind that her dad said Egyptians wore. Sadie didn't know why she was seeing things. The strange thing about it was that she saw everything through the woman's eyes, like being the only guest in an otherwise crowded cinema. Probably it was something that came with being dead. There was something about the person in her vision wasn't quite right. She seemed to echo power, moving through the reeds with a quiet dignity. The woman had a small boy with her, probably a son.

She approached a large tree which sat on the banks of the river. There seemed to be something trapped in the roots of the tree, something shining. It was a coffin. Symbols glimmered above the tree roots for a moment. Then the roots receded, leaving an ornately decorated coffin.

Sadie didn't know what happened. She had felt like she was almost channeling some form of magic. It seemed to come naturally to her. But the river was gone. It had gone up in smoke. Deprived of water, fish flopped helplessly in the mud. Boats lay on the bottom, turned over. The bullies looked stunned. It was impossible for the water to just…disappear.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Then, the water appeared at just the right time.

This time, the bullies weren't laughing. Each of them was drenched with water from head to toe. Surprisingly, none of them looked mad. Instead, they stared up at Sadie in awe. The water was back in the river. Everyone else was acting like nothing had happened. Then, they all walked away with no other words said. Sadie had a feeling that for some reason, none of them would bother her ever again.

She had always known that she was special, but what she didn't know was in what way. Sadie could have been some kind of princess. Maybe a magician. That was probably why her grandparents hated her father; it might have had to do with family.

In her memory, Sadie remembered something. On her sixth birthday, she and Carter had had a fight over something. Anyhow, there was an ice cream cake, and it was a pretty nice one, too. Carter had probably gotten angry and made the cake explode. Or maybe it was her. Ice cream had splattered on their faces and the upholstery.

Ever since she moved in with her Gran and Gramps, Sadie hadn't done anything like that. It was probably a reflex.

As she sat on the porch of her friend's house, Sadie looked out at the sunrise. A new day was a new opportunity. The smoke and fog that usually blocked out the London skyline cleared, revealing a colorful sunrise on the horizon. The smoke cleared, unveiling new hope and new opportunities.

"How did you get them to stop being so mean? I mean, we're happy for you but how did you manage to pull it off?" Liz and Emma sat in chairs next to her, holding cups of juice and sweet buns.

"Oh, for now I'll just say that things went up in smoke."

**A/N: The sad thing is that, bullies have to make others feel bad in order to be "cool". What's even worse is that we laugh at those that have to go through this kind of trash each day. It's really a pity some weren't as lucky as to be able to tap into the power of a god. **

**I'll probably write another one-shot like this. I'm still working on it. Other people have had this idea of a character being bullied and then overcoming it. I know that. You are all amazing writers. However; am I allowed to use it? Thanks. :3**

**Most importantly, what did you think? Love it, hate it, want to rip it to a billion shreds? Leave a review down below. I would love your opinion. If you don't review, you're a big, fat bully. Just Kidding! Anyhow, please review!**


	2. Do You Miss Me?

**D!$cL!^^3R (Disclaimer): I do not own the _Kane Chronicles. _Thank the wonderful Mr. Riordan. **

**Thanks to all the kind reviews I got. I'd like to say thank-you to everyone who reviewed. You are all great people. **

**I'm sorry if this is making stereotypes about any group in any way. Not all people from the South-Eastern part of the United States are racist. I believe in the Christian faith, which says that God loves everyone, even those whose actions he doesn't approve of. God is the only one who can judge. **

***Silence* Enjoy!**

Jasmine Anderson knew that it was too good to be true. Or, in her case, too bad to be true. Actually, she preferred being called "Jaz" and that was what you'd call her if you wished your face to remain intact. She thought Jasmine was too childish.

It was close to impossible that the world was going to be destroyed unless she helped these kids she'd never even met. For all she knew, "Carter and Sadie" could have been a ring of kidnappers who had put a recording in random student's lockers all over the country. But it also seemed enticing. Getting to leave her old life for something new. Also, Brooklyn House sounded like a nice place to live. The entire thing all because of some long dead ancestor who probably was in the mummy display at the museum. Magic was just something that little kids and magicians believed in, after all.

At school and at home; even if she was slow to admit it; Jaz had nobody. By the ninth grade, most of her former friends had dropped out to pursue a different life. For many of them, sports, music, and theater were the only ways out of their current situation where many of them could hardly afford shoes. Education could wait.

The students who attended at the high school cared little or nothing about school. For them, it was a place to socialize and to deal whatever illicit drug was in the air.

It seemed all too likely that the recording it was a prank, set up by some jealous member of the cheerleading squad who thought it would be funny to see how Jaz would react. For some reason, it felt real. None of the cheerleaders knew a smidge about Egyptian mythology; so obviously they couldn't have set it up. The cold glass amulet felt warm in her hand, even in the cold, windy haze. From what little Jaz knew about magic from the cassette recording, the warmth must be kind of a sign that it might have been possessed by some kind of god or whatnot.

During the short recess that the students were provided, most spent it in the empty, run down courtyard behind the school. A rusty swing set sat in the corner. From across the yard, students sat and smoked. The sickly sweet smoke drifted over to where Jaz was sitting, making her cough and wonder why she was even alive and why she was here in one of the poorest parts of the state if she was really so special.

If Jaz was really descended from Egyptian royalty, wouldn't she live in a sandstone palace along the Nile and have servants to feed her grapes? Instead, Jaz lived in a house which was infested with every kind of vermin known to man and attended a school populated by juvenile detention center graduates. Egyptian royalty deserved better than that. She was reminded of what Carter's father had said. Fairness meant that everyone got what they needed, not necessarily not what they wanted. If that was the case, fairness was pretty unfair.

After school, Jaz slung her schoolbag over her shoulder and popped the cassette into her cassette player to see if what she heard wasn't just her imagination fooling her.

!#$%^&*(

Jaz's house was quite nice in its heyday. It was what historians would call an antebellum mansion; (which was a house built before the Civil War) and had belonged to the Andersons for as long as anyone was concerned.

Now, it was in desperate need of a nice repair. Fields that had formerly been an endless sea of tobacco lay idle. Paint peeled off the house like cornflakes. Termites had eaten away most of the Victorian style porch. If one of those television nannies walked in, they would probably walk out shaking their heads and say there was nothing they could do.

During dinnertime, Jaz talked with her parents about finding the cassette recording in her locker along with the amulet. Although she spoke as clearly and as soberly as she could, she could tell her family wasn't taking her seriously.

Her parents laughed like it was the funniest thing ever. Soon, they had tears coming out of their eyes and her younger brother was looking at them in shock.

"Sure, we've all seen _The Mummy, _Jaz_. _What is this now? The sequel? We could all use some more humor in our lives, you know honey?" Jaz's dad elbowed her suggestively.

"How're you going to get to Brooklyn, anyway? One of those gods of yours going to come with a limo and pick you up?"

Her mother lit another cigarette and plunked the burnt-out one in an overflowing ashtray. To say the least, she was in as good a condition as the house was. Certainly not someone you'd want to take to a party as a date.

Jaz felt embarrassed. This was probably a joke, anyway. She tried to look at her meatloaf and at least eat some of her mashed potatoes. Her parents didn't do magic. Not unless working for the local grocer and smoking a truckload of cigarettes each day were magical. In eighth grade, Jaz had learned about how some traits were recessive; how those traits could be in a family for several generations without showing up in anyone.

"Besides, the best way to eradicate all the trouble in this world is to kill those colored people. The only color people our good Lord intended to have was white. None of this "rainbow garbage. Humph. All those talk 'bout world peace is driving me crazy, quite frankly."

Jaz hated it when her parents talked about colored people like they were as bad the rats that ran under their floorboards at night. After all, her church services said that God loved all people equally and that the true Anti-Christ was the one who refused to show tolerance. In Tennessee, though, comments like that were so common that nobody cared. She had met friendly people of all races; and, to be honest, the lingering feelings of discrimination were one thing she hated about having to live in Tennessee.

Jaz had a sudden rush of sympathy for Carter.

She had no idea about how it was to simply enter a building and have people giving you suspicious looks. Jaz knew many people who thought that African American minorities had some kind of gene that made them want to commit crimes. There were also "white" people who stole things and murdered people. Fairness was not so fair after all. What she needed was to really get a life outside of this poor excuse of a house. That would be fair.

"You know, I'm dead tired of having to live in this dump with you. Will it kill you to get this stupid thing repaired?"

"Don't worry Jasmine; our house still has plenty of mileage in it."

"Ugh, I told you to not call me that! You know what, I'll leave tomorrow and I won't miss this place one bit!"

She recoiled from her own words. Of course she would miss Tennessee and her house there. Yes, even if it was a miserable excuse for a home that still had appliances from the 1850s. Jaz had never lived anywhere else except for that one time when the cheerleading team went on tour. Even then, Jaz had been miserable.

Her younger brother started to sniffle. He could be crying over anything, considering he was only two. Most people found little siblings a nuisance, competition for their parents' attention. At first Jaz had hated her brother, Davie. He had always enjoyed playing with her cheerleading pom-poms. Davie would put them on his head like a wig and pretend to be a clown. Her parents thought it was adorable, though Jaz didn't find it funny in the least bit. Eventually, she did notice that he looked a bit cute. She became best friends with her brother; playing with his toys, helping her mom take care of Davie and making mud pies in the summer.

"Will you really leave, Sissy?"

Little children had always had the ability to melt Jaz's heart. Just for his sake, she wanted to say it was all a joke. Instead, she worked on stacking her peas into a pyramid while trying to focus on the pink flowers on the plate. It didn't occur to Jaz that someone would actually miss her when she was gone. Still, her parents didn't take her threat seriously.

"Suit yourself, dear. We love you, too."

!~#$*&%$$&

In the corner of Jaz's room sat a guitar. It was one of those things that were timeless. Not something you threw away after a few weeks. Before finding the cassette tape in her locker with the amulet, Jaz's dream had been to graduate college and become a country singer. When she was younger, Jaz had taken music lessons, with other children her age. Since then, she had practiced almost every day.

Music was one of her favorite things after cheerleading. Jaz took out the instrument and began to strum a few chords. Soon, a tune began to form. It was a familiar song; one that often came on the old radio was always on the porch sitting like an old man in a rocking chair. Her parents always said that the song was utter rubbish.

"If _I _die young, I'd want them to bury me with a nice bottle o' whiskey; that's what." Jaz's dad had commented.

Although she didn't say anything when it came on, Jaz secretly was in love with the song. Soon, she knew all the lyrics to the song and the guitar chords. After all, if she died young, who would miss _her?_ Playing music always helped to ease the pain that came with many of her life's experiences.

_If I die young, bury me in satin, _

_Lay me down on a bed of roses, _

_Sink me down in the river at dawn_

_Send me away with the words of a love song…_

Who would miss Jaz Anderson when she'd moved on to wherever she was headed; be it below or above ground? Who would listen to her thoughts and take them to heart?

Not her "friends" at school. They were the ones who had forsaken her for their own ambitions. Not the cheerleading squad. Another girl would probably be just as happy to take her spot on the pyramid. Maybe her family would. They'd probably miss the household help she provided. Her entire life, Jaz had wanted people to care about her; to _want _her. Now, she wasn't even sure she wanted herself. If nobody wanted you, what good was life?

As the song drew to a close, Jaz started to pack her things. She'd better do something useful with her life while she had it. Helping these kids, whoever they were, would be a start.

The next day before her family got up, Jaz picked up her small suitcase of belongings and wrote a short note to her parents explaining where she was going. To tell the truth, Jaz had no idea how she was going to get to Brooklyn or what she was going to do there.

It was cold that morning. Even the early morning hours of dawn, the streets were bustling with activity. Smoke floated up from the chimneys of buildings and houses. The early morning fog hung over the town. Students in the schoolyard were having a smoke before class. It all felt right. Jaz didn't know why she wanted to leave. This was where she belonged. It was ridiculous to think that she could ever be a magician or that she could ever save the world. How could she when she hadn't even bothered to bring a jacket?

It was almost as if the smoke were beckoning her to _stay. _Stay where she belonged. Where she would always belong. Jaz hiked over to the river, trying not to think about what she was going to do next; just to do what felt right. In her hand, the amulet grew hotter, so much that it felt uncomfortable holding it. That must have been a sign that something was going to happen. For Jaz, it turned out that Egyptian royalty was never far away from a boat.

~!#!$#$#

Several months later, when she went back to Tennessee to visit, Jaz could hardly recognize her own house. Her parents had gotten the house repaired, after all. They had even decided to dress up for the occasion. Her mom wore a yellow sundress while her dad had dressed in a rented suit and tie.

The newly painted white porch beamed proudly, touting a new porch swing and several armchairs. The radio sat in the corner, softly playing music. Fields that had formerly been idle were now planted with acre upon acre of pink roses. The floor had been newly polished and new appliances adorned the kitchen counters. It was a perfect day to go on a family picnic.

Jaz looked at her parents in disbelief. "Is this really our house? Or did you buy a new one?"

"Your father and I thought that you were right; saying that we should've gotten this piece of junk repaired yesterday. Before you left, we heard you in your room playing that song about dying young. I guess you really felt bad, so we took out all the money from the bank and got this thing fixed."

"The teachers at school said they missed you a bunch, too. Said you were one of the best students they ever saw pass through the school doors."

"Davie missed you a lot. Heh, if you didn't come here 'n visit us, he would've told everyone you died."

Jaz found it hard to believe that all those people cared about her while she was gone. Well, it she enjoyed living in New York, but once in a while she had to come home. Wasn't it those people who always said "Home is Where You're Loved?" If that was the case, this was where Jaz belonged and all she needed was here.

~!##!#$%&*&*^(

"You know, Sadie doesn't like it when people touch her iPod?" The boy, Carter, looked sideways at Jaz.

She shrugged. "Sadie won't care. After all, she knows I could always leave anytime I wanted to. And I'm sure she'd miss my company a lot."

Jaz knew she wouldn't ever leave. After all, why would you leave when things were more than fair; when everything you'd need was there?

**A/N: (Psst. Wake up.) I understand that was a bit longer than the previous one-shot. Again, I'm sorry if I'm giving anyone a bad name. Here, it's a noose so you can hang me for doing you injustice. =====O **

**In fact, I was born in the South-Eastern US though I don't live there. Not all people there believe the Confederacy won the Civil War, nor do they hate minority groups. As always, I'm open to your opinion even if that opinion may not please me. Come on. Click the nice button. It doesn't bite. **


End file.
